Five Pieces of Furniture
by Angelus1
Summary: You and this job are about the only things I've got anymore.


Spoilers: From "Fault" onwards. 

Disclaimer: Olivia and Elliot are not screwing each other silly. Therefore, they clearly do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: Written for LJ's "stagesoflove"; each section is a double drabble based on the italicized prompt. Also my first SVU piece, so hopefully it came out at least semi-decent?

* * *

**Different, Not Better**

It's no secret that Olivia Benson was the glue that held the 16th precinct together, and in the wake of her absence, they're all feeling a little lost.

For Elliot, the empty _desk_ across from him is the worst - looking up from the tedium of paperwork and expecting to see Olivia absently twisting a lock of hair as she pores over casefiles, he's greeted instead by a vast expanse of faux oak. The smooth surface shines under the fluorescent lights, mocking him.

When Dani enters the picture, she brings only the necessities – blank notepads, cup of pens and pencils, lamp, stapler...no personal items. Elliot's grateful. And really, he doesn't mind Dani. He enjoys her dry sense of humor, her commitment to a job that she's wrestling with every day.

But there's still that niggle of discomfort when he looks over and sees her dirty blonde curls. Dani doesn't keep a stash of chocolate in the bottom drawer for the really bad days, or tape little notes to the surface of the desk and hide them under papers so that she can pretend to know everyone's birthdays from memory.

Elliot's pretty sure that the empty desk was better after all.

**Duty Calls**

Maureen lets herself into her father's apartment, where the girls have been spending rotating nights. During the days, Dickie entertains him football games and practices. Even their mom takes him out to lunch occasionally - ironically, the family has never been closer.

"Honey, I thought you had a study group tonight." Elliot strides into the front room, flipping on the light to reveal his eldest daughter with a large overnight bag balanced on slim shoulders. From this she extracts a biology textbook that she waves in front of his face.

"Studying…" she says, then gestures between the two of them. "…group." Elliot pulls her into a hug.

"You don't have to do this," he says. "I love all the support, but I don't want you guys to be missing out on things you'd rather be doing."

Elliot's _couch_ is lumpy, scratchy, and altogether uncomfortable. He often gets calls in the middle of the night, and forgets about the child sleeping in the front room as he rushes around the apartment getting ready. When he sleeps he snores, and there's never any food in the refrigerator.

Maureen stands on tiptoes to kiss her father's cheek.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

**Touchdown**

Olivia's been attempting to do paperwork for the duration of the flight home from Oregon, but even without the excuse of the shaky tray _table_ and leaky pen, she doubts she would've been able to concentrate. Her concept of 'home' is so messed-up right now that even the thought of her own apartment and bed isn't particularly comforting. She feels restless, useless, and altogether out of place.

She thinks of calling Casey, but knows that it's far too late. There is one other number waiting patiently on her speed dial, but she can't bring herself to press the button, unsure of where they stand with each other. The cab ride home passes in a blur, until it's just Olivia standing in the living room of an empty apartment, limbs aching and eyes stinging, but with no desire to sleep.

One of Elliot's academy t-shirts rests in the bottom drawer of her dresser. His scent still stubbornly clings to the fabric, and Olivia knows sleep will come if she pillows the shirt under her head and inhales deeply.

She sits at the kitchen table in the dark instead, pours herself a glass of wine, and waits for the sun to rise.

**Displacement**

Olivia's knuckles are turning white. Her fingers are wrapped around the armrests of the visitor's _chair_ in front of Cragen's desk, the second chair beside her painfully empty. She stares it down, as if willing Elliot to appear, her port in the storm. Through the glass windowpane of the door, she can hear his deep chuckle intermingling with Dani's lighter, airier one.

"You don't have to look like you're about to be scolded," Cragen says in an amused tone. Olivia scratches her fingernail against the wood and doesn't answer. His voice softens. "You know you always have a place here, Olivia. We didn't sell you out - we've been waiting for months for you to come back home."

"I guess I'll go find a desk," she says, standing abruptly. She pushes through the door, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. Cragen frowns in confusion as he watches her go.

Olivia dumps her purse onto an empty desk adjacent to Munch's, trying to keep her head down so she doesn't have to see Dani gently lay her hand on Elliot's shoulder. She digs through her purse for nothing, shuffles papers around, tries to look busy.

She doesn't feel very much at home.

**Frenzy**

Dani is still his partner, he's still married, and she owes him a myriad of explanations for why she left. But when he knocks on her door the night before her first day back, none of it seems to matter. Olivia mumbles something completely incomprehensible and moves aside. The second the door is firmly locked, he's upon her.

They slam against one another desperately, lips and teeth and tongues. When they're both gasping for air Elliot pulls back, gazing at her intensely.

"Are you back for good?" he asks. Olivia swallows the lump in her throat and nods silently. He squints, as if trying to determine whether she's telling the truth. Then his lips are back on her skin, hands sliding underneath her t-shirt.

Elliot stumbles backwards towards Olivia's room, pulling her with him. They collapse onto the _bed_, his bulk pressing her into the mattress. She arches against him, clutching his shoulders, and they stay like that, falling asleep intertwined in all senses of the word.

When she awakens, there's a large hand caressing her bellybutton. But even after years of sleeping in an empty bed, she feels completely at-ease with his presence beside her.

She feels at home.


End file.
